


In the Cradle of Your Morning

by Beckon



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Early Mornings, Established Relationship, Lazy Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Naked Cuddling, Outworld, Post-MKX, Scars, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, Taunting each other, Touching, post-Revenant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckon/pseuds/Beckon
Summary: "The sun's barely up.""I wouldn't know," Kenshi replied."That's true, you wouldn't know," Kung Lao quipped.
Relationships: Takahashi Kenshi/Kung Lao
Kudos: 6





	In the Cradle of Your Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I have a whole backstory that builds up to this, but I couldn't get all the details to work out in time, and I really just wanted to publish this portion of it. I'll probably publish the rest of it at a later time.

"You're up early."

Kenshi heard the heavy voice behind him.

A hoarse whisper drawn out of sleep.

It was enough to make him pause, giving him a chance to settle his weight on his feet.

Despite how quiet Kenshi thought he had been getting himself out of bed, it didn't seem to be quiet enough. Then again, in the complete silence of the early morning, any and all movement would never be quiet enough- especially any and all that would disturb the lingering stillness.

It felt odd that of all the people who would disturb it, it would be him.

The one who usually enjoyed it the most.

Quietly chuckling at having been caught, especially so quickly, Kenshi slowly forced himself to move around in the small room. He kept one hand on the bed next to him and dragged his fingers down along the mattress as he walked, using it to keep track of his placement.

It was too early for him to rely on counting his footsteps to figure out where things were.

To figure out where _he_ was.

"The sun's barely up."

"I wouldn't know," Kenshi replied.

The subtle chill in the room was still hanging around from the night before.

Where it had been comforting to sleep in during the night, tucked under a heavy blanket, it was less comforting now, now that he was out from underneath it. He could feel the circulating chill across his skin, and had some mild regrets now about not sleeping in anything previously; which was something he rarely did, given his cold-nature.

And now he was paying for it.

Kenshi found himself fumbling through his memory, trying to remember just where exactly he had left his clothing the night before.

Whether it had been in this room or the other- or perhaps split between the two.

"That's true, you wouldn't know."

Kenshi stilled at the subtle squeak of the mattress and felt how it shifted underneath his fingers, before he heard the slight rustling of bed sheets that followed afterwards; an act made in secondary motion. He knew well by now that the dual movements were indicators; and they painted an image of Kung Lao moving away from his previous resting place, moving out of the nest he had made amongst the blankets.

And knowing the former monk, the man had either simply rolled onto his other side, or onto his back, to help relieve the pressure points made while he was sleeping.

Kenshi heard a quiet groan follow soon after.

And he knew that Kung Lao was stretching now, that the man was working out the sleeping stiffness in his shoulders and back; they were two areas the man complained the most about in the mornings. And given how he knew how Kung Lao slept most nights, Kenshi wasn't surprised that the man would find those two areas in constant ache.

Age was also a factor as well- as was physical history.

An exhausted, but relieved exhale signaled the end of his movements.

And for a moment, Kenshi lost track of him.

"Is there any way I can convince you to stay in bed?"

"I would love to," Kenshi spoke, as he continued moving again.

His fingers reached the end of the mattress and forced him to step beyond it without further guidance.

What loose counting he could conjure up at this hour was attempted as he made his way to the desk that sat opposite of the bed; only one of three pieces of furniture that filled the small bedroom- thankfully. He kept a hand reached out in front of him until his fingers bumped into the edge of the desk he was looking for, giving him the opportunity to curl his hand over it and run his palm across the surface.

He quickly found where a pile of clothes had been laid out, half-folded in a rush.

But when he rubbed the clothing between his fingers, he recognized the coarse material belonging to Kung Lao instead.

Kenshi lingered on the touch, on the clothes half-grasped in his hand.

He could smell the man's scent on them, although that very well could've been from sleeping in his bed.

It could've been from sleeping against Kung Lao for most of the night, transferring the former monk's scent onto his own skin instead.

"So why not?"

The man was persistent as always.

"General Blade needs me to host a presentation with her today, to present something to the board," Kenshi answered, as he set the clothing down and pushed it aside. "And she will ride my ass if I don't turn up on time."

"From my experience, you enjoy that."

Kenshi found himself laughing at the spurred remark.

" _Smartass_."

Despite his own words, Kenshi turned towards the voice that was debating him, that was taunting him, and headed towards it.

He moved off memory, off habit as he walked across the bedroom and eventually felt his leg brush against the mattress. He used his fingers to guide him once more, to move himself around the corner of it; and this time, he walked up along the side opposite to the one he had woken up from.

Once he was secure in his placement, Kenshi moved his hand to roam across the heavy blanket that stretched out underneath his palm; he moved it around until he could feel the body that was still tucked underneath the bedding.

And from there, he followed the shape of it until he felt skin at his fingertips.

Kenshi felt a hand wrap around his wrist before it climbed up along his arm, eventually coaxing him to lean down until he felt fingers curl over his shoulder. A gentle squeeze followed before he felt a second hand cup him by the jaw, before Kenshi felt himself slowly being guided further down.

And the touch of warmth against his lips let him know that he was in the right place.

The hand on his shoulder moved to his face as well, cupping him between two warm palms.

And Kenshi felt how Kung Lao held him in and kept him in place for the hazy kiss.

It was early for the both of them.

More so for Kung Lao than for himself.

Which only made it easier for Kenshi to part the man's lips and sink his tongue into the heat of his mouth.

A quiet groan coincided with fingers curling against his jaw, curling into his beard.

With warm skin already under his touch, Kenshi spread his fingers out across Kung Lao's chest and took in the comforting heat that had kept him warm throughout the night. He moved his hand into the curve of the man's neck and gently cupped the side of it, allowing himself to feel the subtle arch as he tilted Kung Lao's head back into the pillow underneath him.

Kenshi felt a hand move to curl against the back of his head in response.

He felt the weight of fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him in and pulling him down.

"Just another half-hour," Kung Lao whispered; his lips just barely parting from Kenshi's own, just barely getting away from the weighted embrace, "- at least until the sun is up."

"And how can I be sure that you'll tell me the truth about the sun?" Kenshi teased.

"Surely you can at least trust me with that. It's one thing if General Blade's wraith is directed at you, but I don't wish to be a victim by association," the former monk chuckled, kissing him once more after the words. "Besides, you'll feel the heat of it against your back, won't you?"

Kenshi was reminded of the small window just above Kung Lao's bed.

He could feel the cool morning air coming through the glass, which must've been propped open the day before- and then promptly forgotten about.

Which was a bit precarious to do in Outworld.

"You make a convincing argument," Kenshi admitted, as he trailed his thumb along the underside of Kung Lao's jaw, before he moved his hand back to the man's chest. And then further down as he began to tug away at the heavy blanket between them. "Thirty minutes, that's it."

"Thirty minutes," the man repeated, assuredly.

Feeling hands at his shoulders now, Kenshi felt how Kung Lao pulled him down once more, and he just barely found a place for his hands amongst the mess of bed sheets and pillows. He kissed the man again, holding Kung Lao down with the embrace this time, before he slowly climbed into the bed with him; Kenshi had to shift the weighted blanket even further down just to give himself room to join.

Kenshi felt Kung Lao's hands pull him in, pulling him on top, and he felt how his weight slowly settled against the man, replacing the weight of the heavy blanket now. He felt how arms wrapped around him, how hands moved to circle over his back, wrapping him up in a loose hold- wrapping him up in the undeniable warmth that the other man was putting off.

Kung Lao enjoyed having a sense of weight on him.

He stated that it helped with his nerves, with the pain that was associated with them.

The extra weight also helped with his anxiety, which was something that Kenshi could relate to.

In the early mornings like this one, it wasn't uncommon for them to trade body heat for body weight.

The former monk was almost always unbelievably warm no matter how cold the rest of the house was.

Which was one of the reasons Kenshi enjoyed being around Kung Lao so often.

It was how the man could so easily persuade him back into bed, back into his arms.

There were many other reasons as well.

Giving Kung Lao some relief, Kenshi pulled away from his lips before he brought his own to the man's jaw; he let the touch settle and let the two of them catch their breath in the quiet moment. He felt hands curl against the back of his shoulders now and heard the quiet sigh that escaped the other man.

Kenshi never could get a decent telepathic connection to Kung Lao, but he had figured out different ways to read the man.

He could feel how relaxed he was now- perhaps in the air of his own victory.

"Is this what you wanted?" Kenshi whispered.

"Hmm- yeah," Kung Lao murmured into his shoulder, squeezing him in closer.

Kenshi toyed with the idea of going back to sleep.

But the odds of him waking up on time again were slimmer now.

He slowly brought his lips down to Kung Lao's neck and kept the touch light and easy as he waited on a reaction from the other man.

Even with the passing decades, Kung Lao was still sensitive about his neck, and he was certainly even more on-guard about who could or couldn't get close to him. Which, given his past, given what had happened to him, the slight paranoia came as a surprise to no one. It had taken Kung Lao years to be comfortable with someone even just standing behind him, let alone someone attempting to approach him from the back.

Kenshi's second encounter with the man, post-Revenant, had almost ended with him taking a bladed hat to the neck when he had done just that.

Although, in his defense, it wasn't like he could tell what direction the man had been facing.

A fact that even Kung Lao reluctantly admitted had merit to it.

There was a time where, when it came to sleeping arrangements, Kung Lao seemed to tolerate letting Kenshi sleep behind him. The man would either sleep on his back or sleep facing him instead, which made sleeping in close quarters a little difficult. It didn't really mean much to Kenshi then, given how heavy of a sleeper he was himself, but he also knew it was a hurdle the man wanted to get over.

And gradually he did.

Kenshi heard the anticipated reaction in the form of a quiet moan escaping the former monk, and slowly moved forward with the gesture.

He pressed firmer against the man's neck, before he parted his lips and pulled a knot of skin between them.

He heard Kung Lao's breath pitch at the suckling motion that followed, before a deeper groan took its place as Kenshi suckled harder on the spot- ensuring that he would leave a mark behind in his wake.

Fingers curled in tighter against his shoulders, squeezing them now, pulling them down and bringing his mouth in against the man's neck.

"Is this how you want to spend your time?" Kung Lao teased.

"I assumed this is why you wanted me to come back," Kenshi replied.

"I mean, I was thinking it- not that you would know."

Kenshi chuckled as he moved his hands to tilt the man's head back, allowing him to bring his lips to the soft curve underneath Kung Lao's chin. "And yet, I still managed to find my way here, didn't I?"

He trailed his lips down along Kung Lao's throat, kissing once at the nape of the man's neck, before Kenshi moved down to his chest.

He felt Kung Lao drop his hands, allowing him to move with greater ease as Kenshi used his lips to locate the scarred pattern that ran down along the man's left pectoral. He felt the rough tissue underneath him and skimmed over it before he pressed a kiss to the more prominent knot of scar tissue.

"Do you always have to touch those?"

"These?" Kenshi asked, as he moved his fingers to the man's abdomen and touched at the scar tissue that cut across it.

He felt Kung Lao shiver underneath the touch and felt the subtle jerk of the man's body as he ran his fingers along the knotted pattern. Kenshi felt how the scarring ran up and connected to the patch across Kung Lao's chest, connecting to the one underneath his lips.

It was one of the man's more prominent scars.

And the one that was the easiest for him to find based on touch.

The former monk's entire body was covered in a patchwork of scars; a trait that Kenshi himself shared.

But while his were mostly though fights generated by his own provoking, Kung Lao's were entirely different.

They were one of many physical reminders of his time as a Revenant.

There had been some guilt associated in touching the scars, in using them as a way to memorize Kung Lao by touch, especially when the former monk hated them as much as he did. But Kung Lao had assured him that the hate would eventually pass. Once open wounds were now simply thick patches of scarring that had healed from their time in the Netherrealm; they only served as a reminder that that chapter of his life was behind him now. And that it was okay for him to move on when he was ready to.

And while it had taken the man years to overcome them, he eventually did.

He was far from being the person he once was, but the new him was just as good.

"You knew what I meant-" Kung Lao softly hissed.

Despite their appearance, or whatever appearance Kenshi had conjured in his head, the man's scarring was a little more sensitive than Kung Lao was willing to admit to. A side-effect, Kung Lao had called it, to how sensitive the openings in his skin had been before; it was apparently one of few things that just never changed about them.

Kenshi brought his lips to the nape of the man's neck once more and felt the quiet chuckle that vibrated underneath him.

"I could've been gone by now," he reminded, as he leaned back and took one of Kung Lao's hands into his own, before he brought the palm of it to his lips. And Kenshi felt another set of coarse scar tissue against them. "Would you have preferred that?"

"Don't make me choose."

Chuckling, Kenshi moved back in towards Kung Lao and kissed him once more.

Once more sharing in the heat of his mouth.

He felt how hands immediately climbed to the back of his shoulders once more, squeezing at them again, alongside the embrace. And the repeating habit lulled him in, allowing Kenshi to sink in against the man.

Only to feel the light slap of Kung Lao's palms against his back, quickly breaking the moment.

"We're burning through _your_ time," Kung Lao reminded.

"It's early- and you're barely awake yourself," Kenshi remarked. "It's not going to take me long."

"Come on, give yourself some credit."

Kenshi kissed the man again, feeling the quiet laugh that was shared between them, before he pulled away.

Pushing himself up, and pushing himself back, Kenshi leaned back onto his knees and put his hands on Kung Lao's waist, before he ran them down to the man's thighs. He lingered on warm skin beneath his palms before he slipped his hands underneath Kung Lao's legs and pulled them apart, tucking them around his body and using it to keep them separated.

Hands grabbed the man by the hips before Kenshi dragged them onto his thighs.

He kept his hands tight around Kung Lao's hips before he leaned down and brought his lips back to the other man- feeling how hands moved to catch and cup his face once more.

Fingers dragged down through his beard before Kung Lao pushed a hand between them, before he wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks. And it was too easy to admit to just how hard the both of them already were; a mix between the early morning hour, and being so easily spurred on by the other's antics.

Kenshi felt the shared moan that rumbled between them.

He felt the heat of Kung Lao's palm against him and felt the slow, subtle stroking that followed.

A motion that quickly brought him from a half-mast to full.

Rocking himself against the man, Kenshi felt how his cock slid against Kung Lao's palm, rubbing against the man's hand and rubbing against his cock in junction. And the sensation was enough to send a flood of heat through his head as he focused on the shared touch, on the consistent movements that worked him over again and again.

Kenshi settled his weight on his knees, angling them outward for a better balanced center, before he reached to the headboard above him. Fingers fumbled for the small brass knob he knew to search for, and when he found it, he gripped it and tugged it to the right- sliding open the hidden compartment in the headboard.

It was a bit of an extravagant design, but the former monk had mentioned that after spending a quarter of his life in a temple, it felt nice to have his own space. And perhaps he had gone a little overboard in taking advantage of such a new experience.

But Outworld was full of good carpenters- and apparently it was a popular design across the realm.

Kenshi couldn't help but think that it was popular because one could hide a weapon in the small compartment; a weapon that was just big enough to defend oneself in the event of some kind of home invasion. Or perhaps to hide one's valuables- also in the same situation.

They didn't use it for either of those purposes.

Pulling the sliding door aside, Kenshi grabbed the first bottle his fingers touched- and given the light weight of it in his hold, he knew he had grabbed the right one.

He wedged the jar between the headboard and the mattress, before he worked the lid off and dipped his fingers into the awaiting oil. It was greasy to the touch as he slathered his fingers in it and he could feel how it began to drip when he pulled them free.

Kenshi moved his hand between them and began to coat both of their cocks in the oil- eventually coaxing Kung Lao's hand away in order to make it easier. He could feel the slickness of the oil dripping between his fingers, making each stroke of his hand smooth as he worked them both from base to tip- garnering an extra moan when he circled his fingers around the heads.

He let himself focus on the smooth stroking between them, on the odd warmth the oil had taken on now- having borrowed the heat from their skin.

He felt the subtle tugging on his beard once more as Kung Lao moved a hand to his chin, pulling him down and onto his lips. And Kenshi felt the silent urging for him to keep them parted, to keep them open as he felt the warmth of the man's tongue filling his mouth over and over again.

"Are you-" Kenshi started, breaking away from air, breaking away to ask, only to feel Kung Lao pull him back in. He laughed at the interruption and finished off the offending kiss before he pulled away again. "Are you good?"

"I'm good," Kung Lao assured. "You think you still got time?"

"I haven't really been keeping track of it," he admitted.

"Me either. We could keep to this if you don't want to be late," the man offered.

"I came back to bed for this. I'm going to get the full experience."

Kenshi heard Kung Lao laugh in response and took the opportunity to pull his hips back and release the both of them from his grip. He wrapped his fingers around his own cock and felt the shiver that ran through him as he did so; it was easy to get caught up in other actions- and sometimes the sensitivity of touch was a two-sided knife.

Guiding his cock down, he pressed the tip of it against the former monk and heard the soft inhale that followed.

"Do I-"

"You're fine," Kung Lao assured; and the quick response made Kenshi question whether the man had his own sense of telepathy. Although the situation certainly spelled out the question without it being asked. "We were just following around yesterday, remember?"

That he did.

Kenshi felt the wet smear of oil between them and used the tip of his cock to spread it around before he pushed into the other man.

And true to Kung Lao's remark, as well as his own memories, he felt the remnants of their afternoon the day before as he breached the man with ease.

He heard the stammered breath that followed and felt the slight squeeze of Kung Lao's legs around his waist- reminding him that they were still there.

Hands moved to the mattress as Kenshi shifted his knees back, realigning his balance again, before he pushed his hips down and slowly began to sink his cock into the other man. And almost immediately, there was an overwhelming feeling of heat that flooded his senses, and a sense of pressure that squeezed around his cock. And both sensations made it incredibly difficult to focus on anything other than how Kung Lao's body seemed to pull him in.

Kenshi felt hands as they grabbed at his forearms now.

And he felt fingers as they curled in tighter against his skin, almost pinching it until he was full sheathed inside.

He could hear himself panting already.

He found himself already fully focused on the sensations that were flooding his head.

Rocking himself against Kung Lao, Kenshi savored the warm position, the tight sensation that squeezed around his cock. He savored the quiet groans that pitched between every rocking motion- just barely heard over the subtle pounding at the back of his head. He could feel the slickness of the oil and felt how it coated every shared inch between them, making every little movement warm on its own.

Kenshi found himself having to wait until the sharp influx of sensations calmed down before he could move.

Slow and steady at first as he tested a rhythm, a sense of weight; he used the sound cues underneath him to help further guide him.

And once he was settled, Kenshi leaned down and brought his lips to Kung Lao once more, feeling the already parted lips and hot breath that awaited him. He shifted his focus to the man's mouth and to his tongue- to the climbing of hands as they grabbed at his shoulders once more. He felt the squeeze of Kung Lao's legs around his waist and felt how they moved to his ribs now, angling the man's hips against his thrusts.

" _Fuck_ -"

A breathless profane.

Despite his once godly role in life, Kung Lao still came out of it with a bit of a dirty tongue.

Kenshi always found it amusing- especially in the right situation.

He felt hands drop to his thighs now and felt how Kung Lao squeezed at them with every full thrust that passed between them; a gesture made to give himself a form of leverage against each one, perhaps.

Fingers dug into the sheets underneath him as Kenshi eventually forced his head back to catch his breath, to keep himself from getting lost in the constant movements, in the sensations around him.

But with every sinking thrust, with every little squirm of movement underneath him, it was getting harder and harder not to sink into them.

To not let himself lose complete focus of what he was doing.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he was under a bit of a time limit at the moment; and if he lost focus on what he was doing now, there was no way in Hell he was making it back to Earthrealm on time.

Kenshi focused on his movements, on keeping himself steady with his rhythm, keeping himself steady with every thrust.

He made sure that he took advantage of their fitted position, which made it easy for him to use his weight to ensure that each thrust landed firm between them. And he found assurance in the quiet moaning underneath him, in the occasional hiss of air between every other thrust. The sound cues came with the digging squeeze of fingers clawing into his thighs, which both served as a good sign, as well as a trigger that sent a tremor up his spine.

Kenshi felt a hand against his chest now, giving at least one thigh some reprieve, while also off-setting his focus momentarily.

And he felt the stroking brush of Kung Lao's thumb across a patch of his own scar tissue.

A well-deserved touch.

His own need for closure drove him back down to the other man as Kenshi brought his lips to Kung Lao's once again.

He kissed the man quick, just barely letting their lips close against on another's, before he dropped to Kung Lao's neck again; he closed his lips against the same spot as before, which was still warm from his mouth.

There was another groan, this one whispered at his ear, before Kenshi felt the hand at his chest climb over his shoulder and cup the back of his head now. He felt how fingers pushed up, burying themselves in his hair, before they curled in and kept a handful of it in their grasp, using it as an anchor to keep him pulled in.

And it reminded him of how he liked to do the same with Kung Lao's braid.

How he liked to wrap it around his knuckles and grab it by the base, before using it to hold the man in against him.

Kenshi had already settled on the fact that it couldn't be a coincidence that his two favorite people both had braids.

Shifting his weight, Kenshi leaned into one arm as he moved a hand to Kung Lao's thigh and squeezed it, before he slipped his hand between them.

Before he wrapped his fingers around the man's cock once more, and listened to the stammered moan that came with the act.

Kenshi listened to how Kung Lao got louder as he started to stroke the man in the same rhythm as his thrusts.

He had to focus a little harder in order to multi-task, in order to work them both over at the same time; an act that was a little difficult given how fingers had curled tighter into his hair and were pressed against his scalp now.

Letting himself gradually succumb, Kenshi focused on the sensations that pulled across his skin, on every little sound that was made between them. He could hear his own heavy breathing between parted lips, between partly clenched teeth. He could feel the tight pull in his abdomen and felt how it extended down throughout his body; it was a tight ache that was building with every thrust, with every digging finger that buried into his skin.

He could feel Kung Lao's breath in his throat and he could feel the parted gasps underneath his lips.

Kenshi felt how the man's cock twitched between his fingers; a motion spurred with every other thrust.

He slid his hand up and circled his fingers around the tip- and felt how Kung Lao came almost immediately under the action.

A hard gasp came as a signal for the release, staggered between a sharp exhale.

Kenshi felt the man's body tighten underneath him, tightening around him, and he slowed his thrusting to adjust to the change. He used the moment to savor the newfound pressure, the subtle friction as he rocked himself against the sensations- seemingly drawing them out for Kung Lao as well.

It was almost enough to leave his own head swimming, despite the tight squeeze of pressure around his ribs.

The fingers tangled in his hair relaxed and he slowly picked up where he had left off.

Kenshi felt the hand on his thigh disappear before Kung Lao draped an arm across the back of his neck.

Sinking himself to full, he felt the warm, familiar twitch that ran through his own body before he pulled out; before Kenshi used his fingers to finish himself off onto the man's abdomen instead. He groaned into Kung Lao's neck, feeling the heated release that rushed through him, once more flooding his senses as it did.

In the aftermath, Kenshi could just barely hear the both of them panting.

But he could feel every bead of sweat that rolled across his skin when he stopped moving.

There was the brush of fingertips as they dragged away from his body, before he heard the sound of now heavy limbs hitting the bed sheets underneath him.

"I hope that was enough," Kenshi started, hearing the heaviness in his own breath, in his own voice as he spoke. "Unfortunately, it's all I have time for."

Kung Lao gave a quiet laugh in response.

Heavy and breathless on its own.

"It should last," the man assured, before he touched a hand to his chest. "Speaking of, you should probably hurry out of here. It feels warmer in here already."

Kenshi chuckled with the man as he reached up and plucked the jar of oil from between the mattress, before he pushed it back into the hidden compartment of the headboard. He haphazardly twisted the lid back on afterwards and tried to make a mental note of its precarious state for later.

It took a squeeze from one hand before Kung Lao slowly unraveled his legs from around his body, allowing Kenshi to push himself up now- which quickly brought attention to the new stiffness in his back as he did so. He ran his fingers along the top of the headboard and found the hand towel that was usually tossed up there for mornings, or nights, like this one.

And he used it to help clean the other man off, although he knew well that Kung Lao would shower after he was gone.

Fingers tugged at his beard before Kenshi felt how they pulled him down into a kiss.

And he went into it, even if the sweat on his skin wanted a break from the contact.

"I'll cut you a deal," Kung Lao offered. "If you start a shower for me, I'll get your clothes from the other room."

The man's remark solved the mystery Kenshi had woken up to.

The very one that had convinced him to still be here.

"Deal."


End file.
